Happy 15th Birthday, Noah!

Dear Noah,

Happy fifteenth birthday! At fifteen you would truly have been a teenager. We’d maybe be thinking about a learner’s permit to drive this year, which is scary. You’d be in high school with the end of the road of you being at home with us on the all too short horizon. We’d maybe start thinking about college. You’d probably be pushing for independence to begin to figure yourself out away from us. What a different world this would be if you were here in person instead of in spirit! It is strange to contemplate.

The five-year marks always feel like milestones, of a sort. The first 5 years since you were gone, and the first 10. Now here we are at another with 15 years. How are we doing? I think about what anyone would say to their loved ones left behind:

Remember me and include me when you can. Fifteen years have come and gone, and not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. You are always in my heart and mind no matter what. Since it has been so many years, I think this is just going to be the way of things for the rest of my life, and I am good with it. It isn’t as raw and fresh as it was in the early years. You are just a constant companion in my consciousness. Your stocking still goes up on the mantle at Christmas. We celebrate your birthday each year. We take family pictures with one of us holding your big photo in the middle. We talk about you often. You are just one of us, no matter where you are, and you always will be.

Take care of yourself. This is hard in my crazy life between work and raising kids, but I do my best. I go to the doctor when I am supposed to. I try to eat well and get exercise. I love living in Colorado and the fresh air and outdoor opportunities it provides. Your younger siblings sure keep us busy as well! And we try to prioritize life to relax and manage stress as best as we can. This is a busy season of life to be sure, but we will keep working on taking care of ourselves.

Find things that give you joy. Done. As you know, we have your two younger siblings who give us endless amounts of joy! Watching them grow is such a rewarding experience. As they get older and we have more and more time to indulge in our own hobbies and interests, we continue to have an open mind to trying new things as we can. We live in the car these days taking kids to and from activities, but there is still time to work in a good book to read or ways to be creative or active in between all of it.

Don’t be sad all the time. I do the best that I can. Most of the time I am ok, but I do cry over you and probably will for the rest of my life. I miss you tremendously. Life is a composite of lots of emotions. Joy at watching the kids grow as I mentioned above. Laughter at whatever goofy thing the pets have done. Determination in the things we work towards. Sadness over what we have lost, and everything in between. It’s what makes for a full life. No, I am not sad all the time, but I am sometimes, and I think that’s ok.

And, remember that I love you. We love you as well. That is a constant. It is an earth-shattering, utterly life-changing thing to bring another human into the world. You left an indelible mark. You are remembered and loved always.

Fifteen years since my arms last held you. I can hardly believe it. I both love and hate the passage of time. I love how we all grow and change. I hate time moving me further and further away from you. But you are always there, and I have to remember that. Happy birthday to my sweet boy, the one who made me a mom, which is my favorite part of my life.

XOXO,
Mom

Happy 14th Birthday, Noah!

Dear Noah,

Hello my love, and welcome to another year! You are now 14, and it blows my mind how much time has passed. It’s been long enough for life to move on in a different cadence, yet you are still there behind it all through everything. It isn’t the way I wanted you to be with me through life, but I am grateful that you are never fully gone. I know you are always there with us, cheering us on.

Where would you be? Getting ready to start 9th grade in the fall? Starting high school, not far until college, the years slipping past. Feeling that fear as parents that the end where you are launched out in the world is closer than we would like. I don’t have to worry about that with you, though. I miss you, and what life would have been.

Life is busy, as it usually is for our family. We’re making big moves. Things have settled and we’re more fully back in the world than we have been in the last few years. What a relief to be on this side of things! Your brother is moving to a new school that is a pretty unique place. I hope we’ve made the right decision. I know all too well how hard these sorts of changes can be. Please be with him (and us) as he settles into it.  Your sister is a firecracker who plugs along as she always does. She sure is something, isn’t she? Boy, does she love and miss you. We’ve had some bigger conversations this year about you. She has such a sweet heart.

I am working on really embracing some big new ideas, and taking bold action toward a new way of living. It is hard and scary, and I don’t really know what I am doing, but I feel the drive to do it just the same. As always, you are the ultimate goal. We have work to do, don’t we? I know you are behind the scenes guiding and cheering, and I am thankful for it. On this side of things, it is so easy to question…is this right? Am I doing what I should? Do I have the right motivation for the steps right in front of me? I would love some clear signs to continue to point the way forward. I know as a human in this noisy and chaotic world, the signs can get lost in the shuffle, but I will do my best to look for them. I believe I was made for more than the life I have been living, and I am ready to take some big steps toward what’s next. Please help me get there.

This season of loss and remembrance hits me pretty hard each year. I wish that it didn’t, but no matter how much or how little I prepare for it, no matter how busy or free I am, no matter what’s going on really, it always gets me each year. I bump along ok, but then this same 4-6 week period comes and you are all I can think about, and there’s an internal clock that remembers at a bone-deep level. This is a season, as it always is, and this too shall pass. I am eager for that time to come.

What do I think you would say to me? Take care of yourself. Have fun. Indulge. Stop working so damn hard all the time. This life is a gift, and though it may not always feel like it, it is something to cherish. We have work to do and I need you. I love you. I will always be here for you. Hang in there.

I feel it in my heart and I know it’s all true. For better or worse, it’s been 14 years, and though it is always bittersweet to remember and celebrate, I do celebrate this milestone with you. Happy birthday to you, my son. I love you more than you know.

Mom

Happy 12th birthday, Noah!

Dear Noah,

Another year has passed, and here we are again on another birthday, and it’s time for another letter. How are you 12?! It’s the last year before you become a teenager, and I just can’t believe it. You would have maybe just completed 6^th grade, looking ahead to 7^th. You’d most likely be tall like the rest of us, and I wonder if you would be challenging my height, wearing the same size shoes as me and such. Aaron can already flop around in mine in a pinch. And, who knows what you would have been into at this age if you were here. When you are in the thick of raising small kids, it feels like that stage will last forever, but wow, this does slip away fast.

What a year this has been. The world is still insane and getting through this period in our history has been tough. It has asked a lot of all of us, and we have, as we always do, risen to the occasion and figured out how to get along. Praying, praying, praying that the light at the end of the tunnel continues to get brighter. Your dad and I are now vaccinated, which is a relief. Having had one of us get sick and die once already in our family’s history really does make situations like this especially scary, so I really need your siblings vaccinated too. I know everybody is working as hard and as fast as they can get to us all there, so trying to be patient in the meantime.

I know I asked you many times at the start of this school year to please help us get through this. Well, high fives to us, because we did get through it, and it really turned out ok. It turned out great even! I am completely exhausted from trying to do so much this year between working and managing homeschool, but we did it, and it is gratifying to see how much your brother and sister have learned, the unique ways things could be customized to catch up or learn new things that were especially interesting or important. I think we all learned a lot through doing it.

What I am really trying to work on now is gracefully letting go and embracing what is ahead. I’ve been holding on pretty hard to get us all through it, and it’s getting to the place that it is really ok to let it go now. Help me to see that please. I have really neglected myself in all of this and could use the space to get healthy and centered and have a more balanced life. We all need to do it honestly and have the courage to explore and reinvent what life looks like from here. I know you are always behind the scenes, cheering for what’s best for us, so please help us get to where we need to be.

It seems silly to say this because having and losing you has certainly forced me to be stronger and more resilient, but I don’t always feel so strong and resilient, and wish I could be stronger for you. It is 12 years in, and I still think of you daily, and miss you, miss you, miss you. It is the greatest regret of my life that I will never get to watch you grow up. But that was never in the plan for you, was it? I still choose to have you in my life however I can, even if it isn’t the way I would choose.

Please continue to be there in the background always, loving and guiding us. Keep sending the signs to let us know you are there. We all look for them, and celebrate when a rainbow is in the sky, or a monarch butterfly flies past, or any other of the small coincidences that can only come from you. We all love you lots, talk of you often, and miss you more than you could possibly know. Happy birthday, sweet boy. We made it through another year.

Lots of love to you from me always,

Mom

Happy 11th birthday, Noah!

Dear Noah,

Hello, my birthday boy! 11 this year. What?! Can’t believe it.

I always think about what our life would be like if you were here. With a summer birthday, would you be looking ahead to 5^th grade, or 6^th? Other kiddos with birthdays close to yours will be 6^th graders, so I think that’s what you would be too. That’s crazy. Would you be artistic, athletic, or bookish? You’d probably be the sort to play D&D with us down in the basement. You’d love books. You’d love helping others. I wish I knew for sure.

What a year. The world has gone mad. I often wonder what our loved ones that we’ve lost would make of all this. What would those former lifetimes look like, run up against this current reality? For you, that would probably be pretty scary. Under ordinary circumstances, a run-of-the-mill flu bug picked up at school would put a kiddo like you in the hospital. So, how would we not live in fear? My heart aches for families that still walk that line with their kids. Your lives are precious, and not worth risking. You guys are invisible in our communities – you don’t look sick. I know these special kids are out there though, so no matter what, we wear our masks and take it seriously.

We are staying home and safe. What an adjustment! Three of us are doing well with it. Dad, Aaron and I enjoy being home and living a quieter life. It’s harder for Katie though. She thrives on being social. As we laugh we say: she blossoms in front of an audience (like her favorite character, Olivia the pig!) We’re doing our best to find her online outlets for her extroverted self. The extra time together as a family is really a silver lining. I love our family! Even though it would be stressful and scary, I’d give anything to have you in the middle of it all.

Not much volunteer stuff going on this year, and I miss it. It helps me keep you close. I know the world always needs volunteers and that my time will come again – just not right now. I’ll keep listening for you to tell me where to go and when, as you always do.

This is a strange year to be celebrating. We always like to do something big as a family. I know you would love all of us having fun in memory of you. However, this year, we can’t really do the sorts of things we usually would. We’ll make cupcakes tomorrow and blow out a candle for you. Maybe some hiking this weekend, where we can be by ourselves. A little anti-climactic, but we’ll do the best we can. Aaron and Kate are excited to celebrate for you, and their hugs are wonderful in the absence of yours. How has it been 11 years since I last had one of those? I still remember it though – what it felt like to hold you close. It was one of the best feelings in the world.

I love you, my sweet boy. 11 years in, and I still think about you and talk to you daily. You are just part of me, and I will always be grateful for you. I love being your mom.

Happy birthday.

Love,

Mom

Happy 10th birthday, Noah!

 Dear Noah,

Happy 10th birthday, my love! A decade. I have to admit that I have mixed feelings about this milestone. Life has been so busy lately that it has kept me from really thinking about it which is probably a good thing, because it is a little hard to swallow. But, being a mom is one of my favorite parts about my life, and it started with you all those years ago. YOU made me a mom first, and I will always be grateful for you no matter what.

Wow, life sure is different 10 years in. I remember those early days of going to grief groups, and seeing other parents that have lost children who were 10 years in. They seemed to have it together, and it gave me hope. I don’t like to use the word “acceptance,” as in what they refer to in that last stage of grief. I will never accept that you are gone. I suppose I am just used to it. I understand where and how you exist in my life now, and though it isn’t what I choose, it’s what I make of it, and I feel you there in your own quiet way each day.

We are two peas in a pod. Our life goals were very tied, weren’t they? A yin and a yang. You lived and died in such a specific way that highlighted ways in which we all need to do better. Then, it was my turn to jump in and make the changes that needed to be made – to tell your story again and again to the right people to encourage change. We’ve changed three laws now, and helped with a few others. There’s more on the horizon, and I intend to be there to help and spread your legacy that much farther. Other babies live thanks to you. Other moms and dads get to fight the good fight to keep their sick kids healthy – something I would have given anything to do for you. I wish that our story could have turned out different – that we could have just been ignorant to all of this, and just been an ordinary son and mom, but those weren’t our choices.

If this is the way life has to be, thanks for sending me on all of the adventures. I have stopped and pinched myself when standing in Washington D.C., getting ready to speak in-person to people I have only ever seen on the news, and known that I was there because of you. What a network of incredible people I have met along the way that give me so much faith in the good in this world.

10 years in, life is full with our family. After we lost you, I kept asking the question “what now?” How on earth do you rebuild your life after losing a child? How could we possibly dream a better dream than the one that brought us you? A few months in, the answer was clear. We needed Aaron. We cleared our lives, preparing to be parents, and not having a kiddo after all of that was just so empty. He has been a blessing (understatement), and given us a strong path forward. Katie too, when she came a few years later. Filling our days being carpe diem with them, not taking a second of their lives for granted is very rewarding. I do look at our family out doing fun things and imagine in my mind what it would have been like to have all three of you there. You and Aaron would be close in age, and seeing two little brown haired boys exploring something in life together, with a little sister in the middle, wanting a piece of whatever her big brothers were doing would have been something to see. I know you are still there in your own way.

It's interesting how our grief has changed over the years. What felt comforting in the beginning, we no longer need, and other traditions take their place. For example, where I depended on the wisdom and understanding found in grief groups at first, now I feel like I know and am comfortable with what’s “normal” in the abnormal world of living beyond your children. I don’t need permission to recognize you in my life. We’ve been doing it for so many years now that it no longer feels weird. Though we’ve let go of those comforts we needed at first, it doesn’t mean that we’ve forgotten you in the slightest. I know you want us to go on and live our lives and be happy, and we are doing our best to do just that.

I love you. I am thankful for all the ways you have helped us get through these last 10 years. I hope we have made you proud. Thanks for ALWAYS being there for us in ways that we can see and not see. Happy 10 years to my sweet son! We think of you daily and miss you lots.

Love,
Mom

Happy 9th Birthday Noah!

Dear Noah,

Hello my sweet son. Tomorrow I will wake up, and you will be another year older. You have reached the last of the single digits. I can't believe it's been 9 whole years since I last held you. I still think about you every day, and what a journey it has been since you first made me a mother.

First of all, I have to celebrate a victory with you. A couple of victories really. Your short life has brought to light some ways in which our country really doesn't do the best that it could for its infants, and I (with your help behind the scenes surely) have worked hard to right some wrongs and we have done some really cool things. First of all, this spring, I got to see some of the results of the federal law that we passed in 2014 with the nationwide effort to make newborn screening tests faster. Representatives from 28 state labs came to Denver to share how they have been working together on this, and it blew my mind how much your story had touched their hearts and minds, and it is saving lives! It's funny - that law was passed, and then there wasn't much more for me to do, so I went on with life when lo and behold, all this activity has been happening, and it was so incredible to see it. THEN, back home in Colorado, we were able to pass a law here too earlier this month that will also change what happens to infants in this state with genetic disease or hearing loss in a big way. It makes me cry happy tears to think of it. Living this story of loss is one that I will struggle with with for the rest of my life. But then here, so many families will have the chance we would have given anything to have had access to. They will get to fight. They will have tools to help these children grow and be successful. I wish I could have bent heaven and earth to give this all to you when you were born, but I didn't know what I didn't know. I am glad the love that we have for each other could still create all of this. So, what's next? Ha! You and I make quite the team. I love you and would do anything for you. If I can help in some other way to make a big change for some special needs kiddo or other, you give me that nudge and we will keep on doing what we do.

I know last year I was proud to share that I am taking care of myself. I am going to renew that promise. This year is a big one for me. I will be turning 40, and I am trying to not ignore how I feel or what I need to be doing to be healthy. That is hard with work and kids and life. But I know you want the best for me, and I promise to reach for those things that I know I need. I have a big burden in this life, carrying grief. It is lonely and hard. No one knows what to do or say to someone like me. I am a mom of three kids. Two are here on earth with me, and one is here in spirit, and my non-traditional family isn't so easy to understand. I walk through life never getting to talk about you in most circumstances. But, I choose you. Being your mom is a privledge and honor, and I will always be proud of you. And, I will do what I must to carry the burden of grief as best as I can for you.

Finally, thank you for ALWAYS looking out for us, and especially for your siblings. Aaron and Katie both love their big brother so much. I am laughing as I am typing that. You are a baby in all your pictures, and it is hard for Katie's 3-year-old self to understand that you are her big brother when she looks at those photos. To her, you are her baby brother, and she wants to hold you and mother you accordingly. She is really getting that she has two brothers rather than just the one, and she talks of you often. Aaron loves you too, and has been so excited that your birthday is coming so we can celebrate you. You must be so proud of them. They are an absolute joy, and all the swim lessons, ballet lessons, trips to the zoo and dinosaur museum, reeces peanut butter cups and ice creams must make you smile. I love our family. No matter where you are in the universe, you are one of us, and are thought of through it all.

We are celebrating your birthday with fun. We are going to see a movie together, eat at favorite restaurants, hit a splash pad, play games. I am looking forward to a happy day of remembering one of the very best times of my life, those four precious days with you, where you lived in our arms non-stop, listening to your cute funny noises, counting fingers and toes, and falling in love with one of the most fascinating people I had ever met. Happy birthday to you, my love, from all of us. We all think about you and miss you every day.

Love,
Mom

Happy 8th birthday Noah!

Hello my love,

Happy birthday to you! I can’t believe I am the mom of an 8 year old. It has gone fast and slow. It’s funny. Some years leading up to your birthday, I know exactly what I want to say to you, and can even have the letter put together weeks before your birthday, but this year, I have debated a lot. Do I talk about what we are doing these days? Do I talk about what it’s like to grieve your loss this many years in? I don’t exactly know. The fact is that there is a lot going on with our family. And, I grieve for you and miss you so much. It isn’t the same rough ride that it was years ago, but I will always miss you.

What a bizarre year. Our family is in transition. Aaron has finished his first year of kindergarten, and no surprise here, but he did brilliantly at it. Katie is becoming a busy little girl, more than she is a baby at two years old. I know you love them both so much, and thanks for always watching over them. They fill me with so much love and joy that I find that you are one step away from me lately. People ask me how many kids I have, and the guilt and emotion of saying “2” rather than the more truthful “3” answer doesn’t hurt like it did. Which, frankly, that hurts that it doesn’t hurt. Does that make sense? I know you want me and us to live a whole and full life, and that this is by design, but you know what? I am a mom of 3. You count. Even if I say 2, I will always really mean 3. You know?

Back to the transition part, a year ago I took a risk and left a job I loved to try something new. Ten months later, I was laid off. It has been a wild ride. I can’t bring myself to regret the choice I made, and thanks for always helping us to make the best of things. I am taking the summer off to be home with Aaron and Katie and to work on an important volunteer project, and it has been such an amazing time! I needed the rest and the love of our family. What a joy it has been! Can I keep it forever? Is that possible? I am just hanging in limbo and enjoying this gift while I’ve got it, and will wait for those nudges if I need to be doing something else. I believe that you are behind the blessings that come our way, and thanks for sending this break. Please guide me and us as we figure out what’s next.

Speaking of volunteer projects, it looks like we are at it again. It’s early yet, but I hope we can finally make some meaningful and more lasting changes in Colorado for babies. I am glad that we can help. Your story is powerful, and I love making something so painful into something else more productive and life changing for others. Please keep helping to move this one forward, ok? I would love to write to you next year with a “guess what...we did it!” sort of victory. I love thinking about all these lives we will never know who were forever changed in such a powerful way because of what you did for them. I am proud of you my love. Let’s do this, ok?

I am taking care of myself. I know you would want that. After making it through this season of birthday/anniversary for you this month, we are taking a fantastic Disney trip (thank you!) that has had me fired up since we booked it at Christmas. I used it as motivation to lose the baby weight and get in great shape again. Your siblings and dad deserve the best me that I can give them, who can keep up and be active (I mean...Aaron. So much energy! Ha!) and here I am again, the way I should be. I haven’t checked, but I am sure my cholesterol is back down, and risk factors are minimized. I will do my darndest to keep it up. I miss you like crazy, but I want a long and full life before I join you, and I will work hard at it. I promise.

I love you so much. Sometimes I wonder what you would be up to as an 8 year old. But it really is moot. I know you are there. You are not the typical 8 year old. Rather than school things, and developmental milestones, you are always here, watching, guiding, and loving us from afar. Your “to do” list in this world is just different. Thanks for always being here for all of us. We think about you all the time, talk about you, look at your pictures. You are just as real to us as your siblings are and you always will be.

Happy 8th birthday. Dad, Aaron, Kate and I love you more than you know.

XOXO,
Mom